Their Vows
by Ioannis
Summary: A series of unrelated ConYuu drabbles. "Conrad had sworn his hands, his heart, and his life. And Yuuri? Well…"
1. Small Things

**Hello all, I am back with more writing! I do most of my talking at the end, but I suppose I do want to mention this as a fore-word. I am quite the fan of the two drabble series 'Contact' by pyrrhicvictoly and 'Full Circle' by artemis-nz. I will admit they are my biggest inspirations to do my own series, though I am hoping to stay original with my own separate prompts. I will do my best to touch on new ground, though do forgive me if any of my drabbles have any similarities to the ones of these two marvelous writers – they have quite the head start on me.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Small Things<strong>

As expected of a young man slowly moving through his teenage years, Yuuri was quite unsure of himself in many things. Although, not many of them were things one would expect of someone is his unique situation.

Yuuri was growing into his role as King of Shin Makoku with a surprising amount of ease (chalked up by Gunter as natural talent and charisma, and 'an unprecedented amount of dumb luck' according to Gwendal). He had accepted that he would probably never be great with a sword, but he was fundamentally against violence and was pretty okay with how things were. He had collected quite a mass of friends inside the country and out, and was slowly building peace throughout the realms.

And he had Conrad.

His longtime companion and recent lover had always been at his side, giving him a shoulder to lean on and lending his hands when necessary. Conrad was his anchor. Conrad was also, unfortunately, the source of much of Yuuri's stress.

To put things simply, Yuuri felt inadequate.

Conrad was a constant thing, he was stability, always immaculate and the picture of control. He walked with a deadly grace, his sword sung with a purpose (Yuuri could scarcely make himself believe that that purpose was him).

Yuuri looked at himself and saw sloppiness. He saw someone clumsy, someone selfish. His sword sang, but that was mostly due to the fact that he couldn't get it to shut up.

He was afraid - afraid that Conrad would eventually see that this was a terrible match and would leave him for a greater conquest.

Only a couple of weeks had passed since he and Conrad had gotten serious, but in that time the fear had controlled him.

It vibrated in the air around him when he and Conrad went on morning jogs, when he could tell from the soldier's even breath and easy strides that he was holding back to allow Yuuri to keep up.

It trembled through his fingers when he wrote notes to his lover, his handwriting shaky and uncertain despite the years of practice.

It clenched in his chest when he got on a horse, and he saw Conrad close by to catch him in case he fell (despite Ao being the gentlest of creatures).

These things had never bothered him before; they had always been small things. But now there was Conrad, and the things that had never bothered him before became glaring problems. He wanted desperately, more than anything, to be the soldier's equal. Yuuri had tried to tell himself that Conrad didn't care, that Conrad loved him, but there was always the fear.

It came to a head one day when Conrad invited him to play baseball, and stole him away from Gwendal's office with a disarming smile.

Baseball was Yuuri's idea of a good time. He felt safe with baseball. It was something that had been alien to Conrad, something the soldier had been _bad_ at before Yuuri took him under his wing. He thought he would be free from the fear while they played together.

But then after a few tosses, Yuuri made the mistake of looking at Conrad's face. The easy smile that was usually there when they played was gone, instead replaced by one of intense focus and deep thought.

The stony expression caught Yuuri off guard, and his body froze. The ball that Conrad threw sailed far short of Yuuri's raised glove, and instead connected with his collar with a sharp _crack_.

Yuuri cried out and crouched down, clutching at his shoulder.

"Yuuri!" Conrad sounded startled, almost shocked that the King would miss one of his pitches.

It took him only moments to reach Yuuri, upon which he found the teen with glistening eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" they both began, and then Yuuri burst into tears.

Conrad collected the double-black in his arms, and then carried the blubbering teen to Gisela's office (all the while Yuuri repeating his mantra of apologies).

After the healer had diagnosed Yuuri with a fractured collar bone and put his arm in a sling with orders to take it easy, she left the Maoh and his guardian alone together.

Yuuri had managed to pull himself together under Gisela's firm yet gentle gaze, but now that he was alone again with Conrad, he started to tear up again at the deafening silence.

"Yuuri," Conrad whispered quietly, almost as if he would break something else if he spoke too loudly, "I cannot apologize enough for what I have done-"

"It's not your fault." Yuuri replied firmly, but then more shakily, "I can't even play baseball right…"

Conrad looked aghast for a moment, and Yuuri buried his face in the one hand he could still lift, intent on hiding his tears.

"Yuuri..Yuuri, come here."

Strong arms wrapped around Yuuri, careful to not put too much pressure on the teen's wounded shoulder. Yuuri was drawn to that warm chest, where, face hidden, he allowed the tears to fall.

"You are a wonderful baseball player," Conrad began. "The best in the world in fact."

Yuuri gave a wobbly smile at that. Calloused fingers stroked gently over the hairs on the back on his neck.

"It's something that you love more than anything, and I…I should be the one apologizing. I wasn't paying attention."

"No, you're perfect, Conrad…" Yuuri hiccuped. "Too perfect, for someone like me."

Conrad never ceased his comforting strokes, but he was thoughtfully silent for a moment. Yuuri knew Conrad was clever, and probably had already deduced the root of Yuuri's troubles. They did after all possess a certain wordless communication between them.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Conrad murmured, but didn't press.

Sniffling, Yuuri pulled away from Conrad's chest and gently took a large palm in his own. Determined not to let the fear deter him, he told Conrad everything – all his insecurities, about his crippling anxiety over his inadequacies, all the while never meeting his eyes. Instead, his gaze traced the lines on Conrad's palm, circling distractedly while he let his mind reel.

Conrad listened quietly. Yuuri knew he wasn't listening merely for the sake of listening – his knight would be taking everything to heart and turning it carefully over in his mind, looking for the best way to reassure him.

And then Yuuri froze, and suddenly all of his worries struck him as very silly.

He loved Conrad. And Conrad loved him. And Conrad knew that Yuuri knew that Conrad loved him. And likewise.

"Figured it out?" Conrad murmured, and lifted Yuuri's palm up to his lips for a chaste kiss.

"I am so stupid." Yuuri replied breathlessly, meeting Conrad's eyes without hesitation.

"Not at all," the soldier replied, and gently wiped away the errant tears on Yuuri's cheeks. "Just inexperienced."

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><p>Later, after Conrad had snuck Yuuri up to the king's chambers while blessedly avoiding any of his other attendants, they shared a small candle-lit dinner on Yuuri's balcony. At Yuuri's request, everything was finger food.<p>

"I really am sorry." Conrad said in a serious tone, looking quite guilty over Yuuri's arm. "That was your dominant hand, too. It's going to be a while before we can play catch again, I'm afraid."

"As if my handwriting wasn't bad enough already…" Yuuri chuckled to himself, but paused when he saw Conrad's face turn pensive. "What's wrong?"

"That is… the reason I was distracted in the first place. When I hit you with the ball."

Yuuri sat up a bit straighter in his chair.

"I was focused on improving my throw. You really are the best player in the world, you know. I've got to improve or I'll never catch up to you."

Yuuri couldn't help the look of surprise that flitted over his face. Conrad had been self-conscious about his throw? The knight in question gave a crooked smile.

"We are both very silly." Yuuri concluded, leaning back in his chair with exasperation.

"Very." Conrad agreed.

The soldier got to his feet when there was a knock at the door, a maid bringing them their requested food. When he returned with the dishes, Yuuri couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

"Gwendal is going to be so mad when he finds out I can't sign papers."

Conrad shrugged, setting Yuuri's plate before him before sitting down himself.

"It's no big deal."

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><p><strong>Yaaay, first chapter is complete! A quick note, these stories won't be in order and they won't necessarily have anything to do with each other. The purpose of these drabbles is to simply explore the ConYuu relationship and yadda yadda. <strong>

**I will happily accept any one word prompts (though keep in mind I'm a shy turtle and anything NSFW might scare me away, lol). Thanks for the R&R!**


	2. The Cut

**I daydream about these two too much, sigh**. **There's not much to do on this lazy Friday afternoon other than to write.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: The Cut<strong>

A frustrated sigh escaped Yuuri as he pushed the hair away from his face for the nth time that day, the weight of it being too much for the pins he had borrowed from Cheri. He tucked the obsidian locks behind an ear, but there were always a few errant strands that would escape and tickle his eyelashes, causing him to blink furiously.

Gwendal looked up momentarily from his records, taking in the annoyed, fidgety demeanor of the king.

"Why don't you take a break, Your Majesty?" he suggested flatly, mistaking Yuuri's frustration for extreme boredom.

Yuuri paused, considering Gwendal's offer. If he was the same person he had been when he was fifteen, he would have jumped at the offer and darted out of the room without a second's hesitation.

But now the young king was nineteen, well on his way to twenty, and he had come to understand the importance behind his seemingly endless paperwork. What he was signing wasn't just _paper_, it was agriculture policy, education budgeting, foreign aid distribution.

But he wasn't going to get anywhere with his hair flopping into his face like this.

"I'll be right back." Yuuri said gruffly, trying to convey to Gwendal that he was loathe to leave his desk, before trotting quickly out of the room.

He raced up to his bedroom, grabbing a letter opener off his writing desk before slipping into his private bathroom.

He assessed himself in the mirror, gauging the length of his fine dark hair with his fingers.

His hair had grown slowly over these past years, not once having been cut. His bangs, once having sat comfortably over his forehead, now hung down over his eyes. Curls of obsidian framed his face, the longer strands cascading over his shoulders and slightly down his back.

He recalled how Gunter had called his hair beautiful, and nearly pitched a fit when Yuuri had expressed a desire to cut it. Wolfram had nodded sagely in agreement, saying he definitely looked better with longer hair.

It seemed long hair was a fashion trend in Shin Makoku, but Yuuri just couldn't stand it anymore. He was raised Japanese, after all!

Sending a silent apology to Gunter, Yuuri picked up the letter opener with one hand, pinched his bangs together with the other, and began slicing with determination.

It was harder than he anticipated, but after a minute of dogged cutting with the semi-sharp edge, a clump of black hair came away in his hand. He dropped the letter opener in the sink, happier when he noticed instant improvement in his vision.

He regarded the results in the mirror, noting detachedly that his bangs weren't even by far, but he had certainly taken a few blessed inches off.

There was a sudden knock at the door, and Yuuri went immediately to answer it. He was hesitant to open the door, however. If Gunter saw what he had done…The young king grimaced and took a few steps backwards.

"Who is it?" Yuuri called nervously.

"It's Conrad, Your Majesty," Answered a voice all too familiar.

Yuuri smiled in relief and opened the door wide, without worry.

"It's _Yuuri_." The teen greeted the soldier playfully, the familiar banter having become common practice for them long ago.

"I visited Gwendal's office to deliver some snacks, but he said you had 'escaped'."

Yuuri chuckled at that, moving out of the doorway to allow his knight entry inside.

"I had to take care of something really fast, but I'll be returning to my duties soon."

Conrad's sharp eyes had already taken in the double-black's noticeably shorter bangs, but as he entered the chambers, his eyes fell to the clump of black hair still clutched loosely in Yuuri's slender fingers. He arched an eyebrow at his king, causing the teen to grin sheepishly.

Yuuri closed the door and motioned for Conrad to follow him into the bathroom, where he picked up the letter opener and began measuring his hair once again.

"Yuuri," Conrad's voice was amused, "do you want any help with that?"

Yuuri considered it, when suddenly the mental image of Wolfram yelling at him over how he had messed up his hair and 'ruined his image' (or something like that) caused him to pause. He wasn't sure how much experience Conrad had in cutting hair, but it was probably better than anything he himself could do.

"If you don't mind…" Yuuri trailed off, glancing in the mirror at his knight, who nodded casually and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Wait here a moment."

Conrad absconded from the room, leaving Yuuri standing alone in his bathroom. He took this opportunity to decide just how short he wanted it, measuring absentmindedly in the mirror while he waited for Conrad to come back.

The soldier returned a few minutes later, his arms filled with folded sheets and towels. He pulled a sheet from the bottom of the pile and spread it over the floor, then ducked back into the bedroom where he picked up a chair with ease and carried it into the bathroom. He set it down on top of the sheet and gestured for Yuuri to sit.

Yuuri sat, and Conrad took another sheet, draped it over Yuuri's clothes, and tied it off behind his neck. He watched the soldier curiously through the mirror.

"Now, Yuuri," Conrad brandished a pair of scissors from somewhere on his person, "Hold still, if you would."

Yuuri couldn't help but crack a smile at Conrad's sudden change in demeanor, from casual to something far more serious and focused, as if a great and important task had been set before him.

Conrad ran his fingers through the teen's hair a few times experimentally – the rubs against his sensitive scalp sent a shudder down his spine. The soldier pulled a few strands out to measure, looking thoughtfully at the hair and then back at Yuuri's face.

A slight blush dusted Yuuri's face under that gaze, unused to the scrutiny that Conrad was now giving him.

"Ah," his voice cracked, as he remembered how to speak, "Nothing too short. Wolfram will get angry with me if I chop it all off. And Gunter will…well…you know."

Conrad gave an easy smile, meeting Yuuri's eyes in the mirror.

"It's your hair, Yuuri. How short do _you_ want it?"

Blinking, Yuuri took in the words and thought them over. Conrad had a point, but still, he would rather not blatantly stir up his aides.

Yuuri raised a sheet-covered hand, letting it hover an inch above his shoulder. Conrad nodded and began immediately, pulling a comb from his shirt pocket.

For the next several minutes, Yuuri allowed himself to relax. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the gentle tugs and the soft _snips_ of the scissors, occasionally feeling the feather-light tickle of hair caress his cheeks. He marveled at the strange intimacy of it, having Conrad so close.

He would never admit it out loud, but he had quite the crush on the half-breed soldier. He was barely keeping his giddiness in check, struggling to suppress the moans that wanted to escape his lips when those calloused fingers massaged against his head.

"Where did you learn to cut hair?" Yuuri found himself asking suddenly.

_Snip, snip._

"My hair was quite a bit longer than it was now when I went to the Military Academy. I had to cut it occasionally to conform to dress codes there. Yozak taught me."

Yuuri cracked a smile.

"Yozak _would_ know something like that, wouldn't he?"

He didn't have to see Conrad's face to know the soldier was smiling fondly, probably remembering the good times he had with his friend.

"A spy has many talents."

"I'm terrible with things like this." Yuuri puffed out his cheeks. "My mom hated to cut my hair, she always liked to put it up in pigtails."

There was a quiet chuckle from behind him. Mentions of his mother often got that reaction from the soldier.

"But long hair gets in the way in baseball. So I would always have to ask Shouri to do it at the beginning of every school year. I would show up for the opening ceremonies with barely any hair left!"

"It seems you have the opposite problem here, hmmm?"

The two were mostly quiet after that, Yuuri letting his guardian focus on his work. It was an easy silence, one were both of them were comfortable merely being in each other's presence. Yuuri let his mind drift back to the paper work that was waiting for him. Gwendal was probably wondering where he was, though the mazoku _had _suggested he take a break.

Time passed soundlessly. Yuuri almost dozed off in the sunlight of his bathroom.

There was a sudden tap on his shoulder.

"I'm going to fix your bangs now, Yuuri."

Yuuri gave a slight nod, and he heard the shifting of cloth and the light tapping of boots as Conrad came to stand in front of him. He cracked his eyes open slightly to peek at the soldier, who looked quite relaxed.

In the end, Conrad didn't spend much time on his bangs. Yuuri supposed he had mutilated them, and even Conrad could do nothing to fix them. But when the soldier stepped from in front of the mirror to allow Yuuri to see himself, Yuuri was quite impressed with his skill.

"It looks great!" Yuuri beamed with honest excitement, thinking Conrad had done a perfect job.

His hair still curled a bit around his face, but it swept neatly above his shoulders. However, it still possessed a messy mane-like quality that was so unique to Yuuri.

"I'm glad you like it, Yuuri." Conrad replied nicely, untying the sheet from Yuuri's neck. Neat clumps of black hair were stirred off his shoulders and drifted to the floor.

Yuuri stood, picking up the chair and taking it with him so that Conrad could fold up the sheet on the floor.

"Ah, wait a moment." Yuuri called, then bent down to pick up a small clump of hair. He clenched it tightly in his fist. "Thanks"

In a few minutes the bathroom had been cleaned, not a trace of Yuuri's dark hair to be seen anywhere.

"I guess I better get back to my work, huh?" Yuuri smiled sheepishly, knowing Gwendal was going to rib him when he finally got back to the office.

"I must continue my rounds as well." Conrad gave a small smile and a short bow, "Well then, Your Majesty."

"Conrad!" Yuuri burst out suddenly, catching the soldier off guard and causing his hand to fly to his sword belt.

"Oh, er, sorry. That is…" The double-black struggled to find the right words. He fished the strands of dark hair out of his pocket, now neatly braided and folded in a handkerchief. "On Earth, some people give locks of hair for good luck. Usually it's in a charm of some kind, but they don't make those here…"

Conrad looked at him in wonder.

"I'm sorry, it's kind of dumb…" Yuuri muttered, self-doubt starting to overcome him. He began to put it back in his pocket.

"No." Conrad caught Yuuri's wrist, drawing it carefully towards him. He gently lifted the folded handkerchief from Yuuri's fingers.

"Conrad…"

"I don't think it's stupid at all. I am honored to receive such a gift from Your Majesty."

"It's Yuuri." He squeaked, his face feeling unusually warm.

"Thank you, Yuuri."

Conrad's face was odd as he tucked the parcel into his shirt pocket, right over his heart.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading this chapter! Please leave a review if you enjoyed it! :<strong>


	3. Language

**I moved into my new apartment today, time to celebrate and write some conyuu! **

**I've had this idea in my head for a while now, so I guess I'm using it as an opportunity to change POVs? For this chapter, it would be good to mention that italicized text is Japanese. **

**I also really appreciate the reviews you guys have been leaving. They mean a lot to a shy writer like me. Anyways, don't forget that you guys can give me prompts! Enjoy.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Language<strong>

Conrart's days in the military had instilled in him an inner schedule that required him to wake before the sun, and to make sure the condition of the castle and those inside it were quintessential before he was able to rest again.

He took his duties very seriously. As Captain of the Guard, he had many of them. He patrolled the grounds, oversaw the scheduling and shift changes, trained soldiers. He inspected equipment and brushed horses. On his own time he would take a squad around the streets of the Capitol to interact with the people, and practiced his sword training with Yozak if he wasn't otherwise occupied.

His favorite duties by far, however, were the ones that involved Yuuri.

It went without saying that his biggest responsibility was his position as personal guard of the Maoh. But every minute spent by the young king's side was an adventure.

Conrart wasn't afraid of admitting to himself that he and Yuuri shared a special bond. He had been a part of the teen's life before he had even been born. He took special care to learn about Yuuri's hobbies, he learned to recognize every expression the king made (even the ones where his face barely moved at all – these were made when Yuuri was most thoughtful and were probably the most important faces of all).

He had also slaved countless hours over books, slowly attaining the skill of knowing the Maoh's own language.

Conrart knew Yuuri was loud and opinionated when it came to matters of his country, but conservative when it came to his feelings, and rarely spoke about his personal problems. And when he did, it was always in Japanese, and it was always to inanimate objects or animals (or himself). Though he didn't like to admit it, Conrart _hated_ ranking below _anything_.

It took a long time, but he began to notice his efforts paying off here and there.

"…_I hate tests. They're such a headache._" Yuuri sighed one day, rubbing his temples soothingly. When Conrart brought him some herbal tea for headaches, Yuuri looked surprised and delighted, "Thanks Conrad! This is just what I needed."

No long after, he listened to a conversation between the King and the Great Sage in the library, though they were both fluent and talked so fast, he could hardly keep up.

"_Shibuya, there's no need to stress about the tournament."_

"_But my team has been training for ages! What if we lose?"_

"_Practice makes perfect, Shibuya. Why don't you get Weller to practice with you?"_

Then Conrart had brought them some snacks, and had suggested to Yuuri that they play some catch that afternoon. Yuuri agreed enthusiastically, and the Sage nodded slowly, knowingly.

Three weeks later, Yuuri returned from a visit to his family with a stormy expression. His aides were surprised to say the least; it was rare to see the king so angry. After two days of Yuuri brooding, Gwendal finally snapped and sent his brother to go _do _something.

Conrart found Yuuri pacing in the gardens. The maids gave the king a wide berth, their faces concerned and slightly scared.

When he approached the teenager, he could hear angry muttering in the familiar voice he knew so well. It was slightly unnerving, seeing the usually-happy boy so affected.

"Is something the matter, Yuuri?"

Yuuri glanced to Conrart, but continued to pace. "Nothing much, Conrad. The usual. _My stupid brother doesn't know anything._"

Conrart was caught off guard by the sudden change in language mid-sentence, but he didn't show it.

"Anything I can do?"

"_Not unless you could go give Shori a good smack upside the head._"

Conrart stared.

"Eh…Sorry Conrad. I forget people don't understand sometimes." Yuuri sounded a little sad when he said it, mindlessly scratching at the back of his head like he always did when his thoughts were elsewhere.

Conrart cleared his throat.

"_Family troubles?" _His voice a little unsure, but he knew he had the words right.

It was Yuuri's turn to stare.

"Conrad…?"

"_I've been brushing up, your Majesty. I'm not as fluent as I was when I went to Earth. But if you need to talk. I'm always here."_

The double-black king's stormy expression was replaced with one of utter shock, and then delight.

"Conrad, that's amazing! You learned it all by yourself? _So cool!_"

Conrart took the praise in stride with an easy smile, instead waiting patiently for Yuuri to get back to the subject at hand. The king seemed to notice after a moment, and then his smile turned into a grimace as he looked out over the flowers.

"My brother and I got into a fight." Was his only explanation.

"_What about?_"

"_Something stupid."_ Yuuri sighed, "_He makes me so angry sometimes."_

"_That's part of being a family, I think. But don't forget that you have family here too, and we're worried about you._"

Yuuri seemed to take the advice to heart. Though he didn't say anything, he had on a face that Conrart knew very well. It was one of the ones where his face barely moved at all, but he knew it meant that Yuuri was feeling guilty about being angry.

As if on cue, Yuuri apologized quietly.

"No need to apologize to me, Yuuri. It's not me you've been scaring the past few days." With a small smile, Conrart added, "_Well, maybe a little._"

This made Yuuri's pensive face crack, and he began to laugh unabashedly. His laughter carried across the grounds, and many of the maids noticeably relaxed. Yuuri's laugh was infectious, after all.

After that, Yuuri made a habit of switching to Japanese mid-sentence when talking to Conrart. He expressed his thoughts freely, and that made the half-breed happy above all. Of course, Gwendal, Wolfram and Gunter were often left in the dust in conversations when Yuuri would switch, thinking he could express his idea better in his native language (Gwendal's frowns had never been so deep).

But Conrart would happily translate, every time. He considered it part of his duty to know the Maoh's language.

And he took his duties very seriously.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Hopefully more chapters to come soon.<strong>


	4. Fire

**A request for something 'sexy' from artemis-nz themselves, how could I resist?**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Fire<strong>

"Husband," Yuuri sighed in Conrad's ear, "it is _far_ too hot for this."

Conrad remained silent, but Yuuri, pressed up against him, could feel the vibrations of a soundless laugh quiver through his chest.

Relaxing into the hands kneading his waist, Yuuri let himself slowly awaken from the deep sleep his lover had coaxed him out of, and opened up his senses to the sensations around him.

There was a heavy weight across his legs – that was Conrad no doubt. Earlier that night his consort had fallen asleep splayed across him, his heavy head on Yuuri's chest. Now the double-black was on his back and the larger man covered him like a blanket, straddling him, scorching in his heat.

As a matter of fact, the whole room was almost unbearably hot. They had lit a fire to combat the winter's creeping cold from entering their private chambers, and had had extra blankets brought to their bed. However, the cold seemed to have broken in the late midnight hours, leaving Yuuri and Conrad both baking in their sleep. Yuuri could make out a fine sheen of sweat in the flickering light of the fire across the expanse of Conrad's back, and felt the stickiness of it under his own clothes.

His husband's burning, open-mouthed kisses against his throat weren't helping, driving him further and further from sleep, as he did little to fight the heat pooling in his own body.

"Mmmm…" Yuuri moaned, stretching his arms above his head and arching up into Conrad's bowed body, fitting them together closely once again.

Chuckling at Yuuri's sleepiness, Conrad pressed a kiss to Yuuri's chin and then brought their mouths together. Gently at first, then more firmly as the king came to himself, the passionate kiss had Yuuri's toes curling.

Using his hips, Conrad ground down against the double-black, pressing both their hips down towards the bed. As Yuuri wrapped his arms around Conrad's shoulders (marveling at the heat coming off his skin), the soldier's fingers slid upwards, drawing up his shirt and sliding against him like licks of flame.

Feeling somewhat trapped under the muscular frame of his husband, Yuuri gave a playful bite to the larger man's lip, eliciting a hiss from above him.

"Such a _tease_." Conrad murmured against the corner of Yuuri's mouth.

Even though his husband's face was hidden in shadows and a faint orange glow, the king could feel him smiling.

"Let me up." Yuuri rasped, his throat suddenly feeling very dry.

Conrad complied, grasping Yuuri's waist and rolling them so that Yuuri sat atop the soldier, their positions reversed.

Forgetting for a moment his current predicament, Yuuri peeled off his sweaty shirt, desperate to be rid of it. His wish for a cool breeze was instantly squashed as stifling heat from the fire washed over his skin. His own body felt like a furnace, sweat tickling at his hairline and navel.

"I'm so hot." Yuuri groaned, running his fingers through his damp hair.

"I concur." Conrad replied huskily, rolling his hips up into his husband's.

"You're such a _flirt_." Yuuri moaned indignantly, lightly slapping his husband's chest.

"That is also true." Was the blunt reply, causing Yuuri to fix the man beneath him with stern black eyes and to stick out his tongue.

Conrad returned the look with his usual easy grin, though his eyes were far from apathetic. The double-black man recognized the hungry glint in the ex-soldier's gaze. He held it for a few moments, the only sound in the room a faint crackling.

"What's on your mind right now, hmmm?" Yuuri hummed, lightly drumming his fingers against Conrad's abdomen.

He watched the muscles underneath his hands twitch in the firelight.

"I'm thinking I'd really like to have you right now, Your Majesty."

"You would, would you?!" Yuuri cried, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

"Indeed I would!"

Laughing jovially, Yuuri made a show of climbing off of his husband, as if he we about to run away. Conrad pulled himself up and grabbed at Yuuri, pulling him in for another deep kiss.

Eyes fluttering as Conrad's hands began to wander again, Yuuri's gaze drifted to the mirror opposite the crackling blaze.

For a moment he saw he and Conrad entwined together, silhouettes lost in their own personal fire.

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><p><strong>Aaand I'm going to stop there before I have to adjust the rating on these drabbles. Please leave a review if you liked it! More chapters incoming, hang on tight (and also remember to shoot me some prompts!). <strong>


	5. A Monster, An Angel

**This wasn't a request, but I've wanted to write something like this for a while now. So here it is! Don't worry, though- I've already started writing the next chapter, which **_**does**_** have a prompt. This chapter just kind of ignores the existence of season 3 of the anime, so don't let that bother you. Please enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: A Monster, An Angel<strong>

Yuuri had accepted quite a long time ago that he was a monster.

Perhaps that was a bit harsh, but it was something along the lines of what he truly felt. 'Abnormal' lacked the severity of his existence; Gwendal knitted under stress—that was abnormal.

'Evil', however, was quite over the top. Evil was Soushuu, who had mindlessly manipulated and destroyed everything in its path.

Yuuri felt that he was something in between. Even if he returned to Earth, he knew he would never be able to think of himself as being human.

Even though Yuuri dutifully remained positive about his situation, it occasionally appeared at the back of his mind that he was something otherworldly in both worlds. He possessed someone else's soul, his blood was a Key, he could use maryoku despite being a half-blood. He was kind of like Frankenstein's monster: a collection of different parts haphazardly brought together.

So, he thought that 'Monster' kind of fit. Especially taking into account his powers that had made him Maoh—powers of likes that had never before been seen.

Yuuri possessed strength, that much was certain. His 'Maoh Mode' was a firecracker, dangerous, flashy, and powerful. Every enemy (and sometimes ally) he had ever met on the battlefield had been afraid of him, or in awe. He had destroyed Soushuu and the boxes, and had been hailed as a hero for doing so. By his will, he had toppled kingdoms, disassembled coliseums, and dispersed armies.

He could scarcely believe it himself. Truthfully, it was Yuuri's alter ego that had done all of those things, but that alter ego slept inside of him-was a part of him.

Even so, Yuuri believed he was a good monster.

As King, he did his best to protect his people. He used his powers for good. He occasionally acted out of anger, but he liked to believe it was for the right reasons.

Still, he was still a monstrosity all the same. Despite his mission for peace, he was going to live a very, _very_ long life. One day someone was going to decide he was much too dangerous for his own good, and then the mob was going to arrive on his doorstep with torches and pitchforks.

He didn't know what he would do then.

Maybe he would disappear, return to Earth and wait for another thousand Shin Makoku years to pass before he passed back through the portal and rejoined his kingdom. Maybe he wouldn't leave this world at all – maybe he would just find a quiet cottage in the country side and live out the rest of his life in peace.

He doubted that, however. He took his job as a king much too seriously to just abandon it, and besides, life had a tendency to be hilariously similar to his dramas.

A "Hero" much like Alford would probably appear, and try to take his head. Or an assassin in the night would stick a knife between his ribs, an ending much like those of the great kings of his home world.

However, Yuuri wasn't too worried. No matter what ending he faced, there was a comfort he held in his heart that wiped out his fear.

It was something Conrad had said to him long ago, when they had barely known each other: "If by some chance you were to fall, I wouldn't cry, for we would already be reunited in another place."

It was the comfort of knowing that no matter what happened, Conrad would be by his side.

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><p>Conrart remembered the exact moment he decided Yuuri was an angel.<p>

He and Yuuri had been taking a ride through the countryside. It had been an hour before sunset, just as the sunlight was starting to take on an orange hue.

They had come across a trading village built against the shelter of a rock outcrop, rising smoke alerting them to its existence. It was in terrible shape: under attack by looters as hungry flames licked at the shops and houses. They heard the screams before they saw the damage.

Conrart had demanded that Yuuri stay back (although he was in no position to do so) before riding to the rescue. Luckily the young king seemed to comply, as he was nowhere to be seen as Conrart rode into the village.

In the midst of driving away the looters, however, Conrart felt a warm raindrop on his face, followed by a crack of thunder. Suddenly tepid rain was pouring over him, and around him he could hear the hiss of the fire as it receded.

Conrart knew it was Yuuri, since there hadn't been a trace of any storm the entire afternoon. He looked around for the double-black, but again he was nowhere to be seen. Praying that Yuuri was alright, he continued to fight.

It was at the end of the battle that Conrart found Yuuri again, and had his revelation.

Raising his face to the sky, Conrart felt a hard wind ripple around him as the storm dissipated. There he saw his king, atop his black steed at the edge of the high outcropping.

Yuuri was looking down at the village, his face serene as smoke rose around him. The clouds were beginning to part above him, and the yellow-orange sunlight poured around him. From Conrart's perspective in the village below, the sun had lowered itself behind the king's head, and Yuuri himself appeared to have a shining halo, the rays of which seeming to radiate out from his slim figure.

Shin Makoku didn't know about angels. The first time Conrart had heard of one, he had been in America, delivering Julia's soul to Earth. He had watched the Boston Red Sox play against the Los Angeles Angels, and after the game asked Shouma what on Earth an 'angel' was.

The man had shown Conrart a picture of a celestial being, with giant wings and a halo of light. He explained that they were mythological, and acted as guardians and warriors of gods.

Though Shouma had told him they weren't real, Conrart had no doubt at that moment, looking up to Yuuri bathed in the fiery sunset, that his king was one.

Conrart felt like he was having a moment of clarity, it made so much sense.

Yuuri had pulled him out of the darkness when his life had become meaningless in the wake of Julia's death. The young king himself was akin to the sun—his prescense brightened everyone and everything around him.

And Conrart had sworn to himself that he would protect that light. Whether Yuuri proved to be an angel of light or an angel of death, he would be the king's shadow.

Conrart knew he would never leave Yuuri's side.

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><p><strong>Oh man, I feel sappy right now. Hope I didn't bury you in too much cheese. <strong>

**Also, it was a lot harder than usual to keep these two in character this chapter, since I see Yuuri as a relatively positive character who wouldn't normally call himself a monster unless he was really emotional/angry with himself. I also see Conrart as someone who really loves Yuuri for who he is, and wouldn't put Yuuri up on a pedestal as something, like an angel. But I like to think that both of these characters thought something akin to this at one point, since it seems likely that Yuuri would be disturbed by his power sometimes and that Conrart would be amazed by Yuuri (all the time, heheheh). **

**Anyways, like I said, the next chapter is already partially typed. Expect it within the next few days. **


	6. The Eyes of Tomorrow

**Sorry for the delay, I've moved back into my apartment and started taking summer classes. Also, I'm happy to say I'm getting some requests! I'll fulfill them as inspiration strikes, I promise. Amaha requested a "sick!fic", so I decided to give it a go. I went with something that happened at one point in the novels, but no one really knows about because the anime and manga skipped over it? Anyways, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: The Eyes of Tomorrow<strong>

"Conrad!" Yuuri shrieked, "Conrad!"

By the time the soldier busted through the King's thick chamber door, one hand grasped tightly around the hilt of his naked blade and the other already reaching for his liege, Yuuri was on the floor, hands covering his face.

"Yuuri?!" The knight's voice was positively a roar, "What's happening?!"

His eyes scanned the room at an impossible speed, but already he was crouching at his ward's side, pressing the downed king against the side of his bed where he had fallen and using his own body as a shield until he could assess the danger.

But there was no movement – the dimly lit room was empty.

The only sound to be heard was Yuuri's panicked breathing, quickly approaching the point of hyperventilating. The double-black clutched at his uniform for dear life, pale fingers stark against the brown cloth. Slowly Conrart forced himself to unwind, his battle-ready brain catching up to the situation and realizing that Yuuri needed another kind of assistance at the moment.

He backed away from Yuuri, letting the teen slump away from the bedside and giving him some space to breathe.

"Yuuri, what's wrong?" Conrart repeated, more gently this time.

He took in the king's state: Yuuri's face was one of disbelief, though he dark eyes seemed distant. The entirety of his thin frame was shaking; however, his palms were firmly flat on the floor, as if he believed he would float away at any moment.

"Conrad, I…" Yuuri's voice was wobbly, "I was sleeping, and I had a strange dream…"

"So it was a nightmare." Conrart placed a reassuring hand on Yuuri's shoulder, though he was surprised when both of the double-black's hands shot up and gripped his arm tightly, as if grasping a lifeline.

"No Conrad, it's—I woke up and I couldn't, I can't-I can't _see_."

Conrart didn't quite process the words until he met Yuuri's eyes: deep and black, but unfocused and searching, never lingering on or connecting with anything. Like Julia's had been.

"Let's go find Gisela." Conrart said firmly, gripping Yuuri's arm with the intent to lead him to the healer.

He pulled the teen up to his feet quickly, but instinctively released his hold when he heard a sudden cry of pain from the younger man. Yuuri hissed a breath and sank back down to the floor, hands flying to his knee and clutching at it.

"Yuuri!"

"I fell off the bed." Yuuri gritted out, "I think I twisted my knee."

Conrart sheathed his sword and crouched slowly next to the young man. He gently slipped his hands under the king's torso and under his thighs, and lifted him back up onto the bed.

"My apologies, Your Majesty. That was foolish of me."

"No, no, Conrad, it's fine—"

Conrart was torn about what to do. Leaving Yuuri in such a state by himself would be reckless, and likely the teen would work himself up into another panic. But carrying Yuuri through the hallways would draw unwanted attention even though it was pre-dawn, and the king needed as little prodding as possible right now.

The soldier was very certain that Julia had something to do with this. And for that reason, Conrart couldn't have people asking questions.

At this time, the information that Yuuri possessed Julia's soul was something known by very few people, Conrart included. It was a fact that the half-breed would doggedly keep secret until he was sure Yuuri was ready to know.

And now was not the time.

He wished with all his heart he could tell his king – despite Yuuri's dazed expression, his eyes were edged with fear. But the teen was insecure enough as it was without his existence being called into question.

"Yuuri," Conrart took one of his liege's delicate hands in his, knowing just how much physical contacted had comforted Julia, "What would you like me to do?"

"Go find Gisela." The teen responded, his voice suddenly fearful, "If anyone else sees me like this, I don't know what I would do—"

Conrart took a blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it snuggly over Yuuri's shoulders (careful to keep his hands free so that the teen could steady himself), then gently placed a pillow under the injured knee to keep it from moving.

"I will return as soon as possible, Your Majesty. Please do your best to keep from moving around."

Once out of the door, Conrart bolted down the hallway.

Gisela's wing was on another floor of the castle; he would likely have to wake her up. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell her – she was a smart woman, known to be a great admirer of Julia in the past. He couldn't pull the wool over her eyes for long.

Luck was truly with him that night, for he didn't encounter any patrols during his sprint to the healer's room. He could also scarcely believe it when he saw candlelight flickered from under the healer's heavy door, signaling that Gisela was still awake.

Conrart knocked solidly on her door. He heard faint shuffling, and waited.

With every passing second, he was painfully aware that Yuuri was alone and helpless. He swallowed back his own panic.

The green-haired healer opened the door (not fast enough), her face tired and curious. However, it took her merely a moment to take in Conrart's urgent demeanor, and she retreated back into her room, retrieved her healer's bag, and joined him in the hallway.

"Where?" Her voice was deathly serious.

"His chambers—"

"What's his condition?" She began to walk briskly in the direction of the nearest stairs, Conrart matching her pace step-for-step.

"Nothing life threatening, but…" He hesitated.

"But?"

"He's twisted his knee…"

"And?" Gisela's past days in the military began to show, her stern voice nearly making Conrart flinch in his state, "Your hesitation in not helpful, Lord Weller."

"He woke up and said he couldn't see anything."

Gisela fell into silence, the statement making her pause. For a while the only sound to be heard was their boots on the stone floor, both of them remaining thoughtful until they reached Yuuri's chambers.

"Your Majesty," Gisela announced as she opened the door, "Lord Weller and I have returned."

Conrart was relieved to see the double-black still propped on the bed, though as anticipated, he did look more than a little anxious.

"Gisela!" Yuuri looked relieved.

"Lord Weller has told me the situation, Your Majesty. If you could please lie back, I would like to try to diagnose you…"

Gisela was an excellent healer; that much was for certain. Yuuri's knee was easy enough to treat, but the king's eyes were another matter. The dim room was filled with the glow of the healer's maryoku; Gisela's face remained blank the entirety of her inspection, her concentration betraying nothing on her personal feelings.

Conrart of course remained at Yuuri's side throughout the ordeal, gently holding the king's palm in his own.

Twenty minutes after they had arrived, Gisela pulled her hands away from the king's face with a sigh.

"There is nothing more that can be done, Your Majesty."

"Nothing?" Yuuri sounded like he might cry.

"No, Sire. There is no permanent damage present. This is likely your maryoku acting up on account of your stress, and a good night's sleep and a day's rest should remedy just fine."

Yuuri sagged with relief, an errant hand coming up to rub at his teary eyes.

"Lord Weller will need to attend to you closely until you are fully rested. I would like to speak with him for a moment, to give him the details of your care."

"Of course." Yuuri looked tired, the sudden absence of his terror leaving him exhausted.

Gisela gestured for Conrart to follow her. She led him into the hallway, and he shut the door firmly behind them. When he turned to face the healer, he could see a storm brewing in her eyes.

"We both know you know how to tend to the blind, _Lord Weller_." Gisela's voice was icy. "I wish to speak to you about another matter."

"Gisela—"

"You have your secrets, Lord Weller, which I will respect. But you must also respect me, and the bonds I had with Julia. No one can replace her and no one _will_."

Gisela was dangerously close to his secret, and at the same time she was so far away.

"No one could ever replace Julia," Conrart replied somberly, "and Yuuri is equally irreplaceable."

Gisela's cold glare cut him deeply, but it slowly softened the longer they stared at each other, each coming to understand the other's feelings.

"You cannot tell me, I know," Gisela whispered, "But please… promise me that Julia's fate is not also the destiny of that child."

If only Conrart could promise her. But Shinou's designs were his own, and Conrart was just as blind to the future as Yuuri was at present.

"I will protect him." Conrart resolved firmly.

Knowing that he had nothing more to say (and that there was nothing else he _could_ say), he returned to Yuuri's chambers, shutting the door behind him with finality.

Yuuri had passed out on his bed in the few short minutes of his attendant's absence. Conrart fixed the covers around him, tucking him in so that he would not fall off again once awake.

Conrart looked upon his king's sleeping face and tried to reaffirm his faith in Shinou's plans. He told himself over and over that Yuuri's reign would not end in tragedy. But when he tried to rationalize Julia's influence on Yuuri's life, he could find nothing to explain their connection and the strange repetition of events that had occurred that night.

The doubt and fear ate away at him.

Conrart pulled up a chair next to the bed and took a seat, beginning his long vigil of the night.

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><p><strong>There was more Gisela in here than originally planned…oops. IMO, Gisela is an important factor when talking about Julia and Conrart's relationship with her (In the novels, it was mentioned that Gisela actually loved Julia) so I guess she just kind of worked her way in there. <strong>

**There's going to be a part 2 to this later on, I think. I didn't get in nearly enough "sick Yuuri" as I had planned, so in pt.2 you'll get to see less angst and more Conrart escorting Yuuri around like an old lady while trying to keep him from tripping over things. **

**Hope you liked the chapter!**


	7. Uncivilized

**Taking a break from my studies to work on my drabbles! I got quite silly with this one but I hope you like it anyways. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: Uncivilized <strong>

Contrary to popular belief, courting Conrad was probably the hardest thing Yuuri had ever done.

One might think that was not the case, with the large number of fantastic and (normally) impossible things that Yuuri had done in his brief time as the Maoh. One might also think Yuuri would be the last person to court someone, considering his shyness and his status.

Further still, ever since he had announced the break of his engagement with Wolfram, all eyes had turned to him as Shin Makoku's most desirable and eligible bachelor. He was practically drowning in the invitations to formal events and dinners. Yuuri felt very much akin to a juicy steak thrown into a shark tank.

He found himself floundering as he quickly realized he was terribly inexperienced when it came to romance and the practices of courting, which he was very quickly becoming familiar with (if someone called on him _one more time-!_).

But no, it had taken him long enough to even admit to himself that he had feelings for the soldier, and longer still to convince himself that he was going to actually _act on_ these feelings.

As Maoh, he decided he was going to take the bull by the horns. Or in this case, the lion.

For better or for worse, he was going to ask Conrad out.

'_Though, this is Conrad we're talking about'_, he thought, '_even if he doesn't feel the same way, he would never ignore me'._

And it was true. But Yuuri quickly found, there was an impenetrable roadblock in his way. The roadblock being that Conrad was annoyingly faithful in his duties as Yuuri's bodyguard.

He had learned early on that balls and dinners were the main stages for courting in the kingdom among nobles, but there was _no way_ he was going to be able to get those to suit his purposes. At any kind of social event, Conrad was always on him like white on rice and didn't relax until Yuuri was at a safe distance from large groups of people.

Even when they were alone, Yuuri found himself trapped by his status. As long as he was in the castle, he was always "Your Majesty" and remained untouchable despite Yuuri's subtle hints to the brown-clad soldier that _he wanted to be touched, damn it_ (Yozak had mentioned in passing once that Conrad was quite dense in the love department and Yuuri was starting to believe him)!

Finally Yuuri came to the conclusion that he was going to have to catch Conrad in a relaxed setting, and only when he wasn't acting as the Captain of the Guard.

Yuuri's opportunity came one day when Conrad took a night off to visit the Capital, and departed the castle gates in casual clothes with minimal attendants.

About twenty minutes after Conrad left, Yuuri retired to his room for the evening, and then, with the assistance of the ever-so-helpful Kohi Tribe, escaped from his window donned in his usual human disguise.

After being set down at the edge of town, it was time for Yuuri to put the tracking skills Conrad had taught him to use and to find his conquest of the evening.

Not all went as planned, however.

Yuuri would've liked to boast that he would recognize his Conrad anywhere, but the soldier was out of uniform and remained curiously elusive for most of the evening.

On top of that, Yuuri quickly discovered that the Capital was celebrating a harvest festival, and he found dances and celebrations in every square.

Finding Conrad became quite a daunting task once he realized he would have to search through stalls and masses of people – he kind of wished he had stuck with the Kohi and searched from above. But he was easily seduced by the liveliness of the city and decided to stay on the ground, despite knowing he was going to get into some trouble.

And he found it easily, with his luck. He was almost dragged into a bar fight at one point (which he prayed the guard would find and break apart), very nearly knocked over a pastry stand in his clumsiness, and was propositioned a number of times by a few drunk partygoers. Luckily Yuuri was equally good at getting out of situations as he was at getting into them, and came out unscathed and merrier every time.

Yuuri was pressed to buy festival favors every few steps. He kicked himself for not bringing any coin – he would have loved to buy a few souvenirs to commemorate his unchaperoned escapade into the city, as well as to help him remember the bright festival he was quickly becoming swept up into.

After a couple of hours, he had nearly forgotten about finding Conrad in favor of joining the square dances accompanied by upbeat bar songs and drinking games. For the most part he avoided the alcohol, but found himself taking a few sips of wine when it was pressed into his hand by a friendly vendor. He was tipsy but determined to learn the lyrics of the songs and the steps to their accompanying dances (which included a lot of stomping, clapping and spinning, to his delight).

As he heard the song change and passed from one dance partner to another, he felt a rush of bliss, and suddenly realized why Conrad loved visiting towns so often.

As the song began, so did the excited dancing, and a few happy hoots from the crowd started up as well. After a few verses, Yuuri found himself spinning away from his current dance partner to another a few steps behind him, pressing up to the stranger to begin the next part of the dance.

Except when warm hands wrapped around his, Yuuri was shocked to discover that he _knew_ the feel of those hands, and his eyes darted up to meet those of an equally shocked Conrad, who seemed to have had a similar realization and seen through Yuuri's disguise instantly.

But their feet were already caught up in the dance – while they stared at each other in stunned silence, they were swept along.

"Your Majesty?!" Conrad whispered, his voice indicating his utter disbelief.

Yuuri pouted (he was definitely feeling that wine now), and their gaze was momentarily broken as Conrad spun Yuuri around.

"That's _Yuuri_ to you, Conrad." Yuuri scolded as their eyes and chests met again.

A part in the dance where Yuuri would have separated to find another partner came, but Conrad refused to let him go, instead taking a few extra skips as to not interrupt the flow of the crowd.

"What are you doing here?!" Conrad seemed to still be processing it, his eyes suddenly darting around to search for danger.

"I wonder…" Yuuri said coyly, but frowned once he realized Conrad was doing exactly what Yuuri didn't want him to do: be the King's guard.

With a flare of annoyance, Yuuri ripped out of Conrad's arms and went to the next available person, leaving Conrad empty-handed momentarily before another rushed in when they saw an opening. Yuuri didn't even look in Conrad's direction, instead he was experiencing a sinking feeling that this had been a bad idea and was going to be a fruitless endeavor.

But as partners exchanged again, Conrad was ready and waiting for him, and calloused fingers quickly found his wrist and dragged him out of the dance. Within seconds Yuuri found himself around the corner in a quieter alley.

"Your-Yuuri, just what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the castle?" Conrad wasn't mad, instead he looked more confused as to how Yuuri had snuck out of the castle and gotten caught up in the festivities.

But Yuuri felt strangely angry for some reason – he began to feel the collar that was his noble title tighten around his neck and suffocate him again, and he felt hurt that it was Conrad who was trying to put it there.

He didn't stop to consider that he had simply caught the soldier unawares, and that Conrad didn't mind him there at all.

"_Conrart_ Weller," Yuuri hissed, using Conrad's true name (which he rarely used because he had difficulty pronouncing it) and making the brown-haired mazoku flinch, "I have done just fine looking after myself for the _several hours_ that I have been alone this evening. I did not break out of my heavily guarded _fortress_ just to get chastised by the _very person I came to find_."

Conrad must have been a little tipsy too, because his usually composed face dropped into one of undisguised astonishment. He released Yuuri's wrist and raised his hands disarmingly, backing up a step in an attempt to appease Yuuri.

Then the king's words finally reached him, and he looked at Yuuri in wonder.

"You came to find…_me_?"

"Yes, you!" Yuuri said, rolling his contact-laden eyes.

"Why?"

Feeling his usual annoyance at Conrad's usual denseness, Yuuri turned back towards the square, throwing up his hands in exasperation.

"Wha—Yuuri, wait!"

It was then Yuuri struck, spinning around and winding his arms around one of Conrad's thick ones and dragging the soldier back out into the square. The dance had just finished, and those around them were preparing for the start of the next one.

"Dance with me!" Yuuri beamed, sliding his hands down to clasp a large palm in a silent plea.

Conrad looked at him for a moment, before a small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.

"I would love to, Yuuri."

Then the music started, Yuuri recognized the tune and threw himself at Conrad, who just as quickly assumed position for the jig.

The song couldn't have been more appropriate – it was a tale of a woman searching for love, and Yuuri felt a sudden surge of longing in his heart as the crowd around them began to sing the upbeat melody.

As Conrad took the lead and spun Yuuri around, Yuuri found himself singing along to the lyrics, his eyes lingering on chocolate brown ones.

"_Stay a while and we'll dance together now_

_As the light is falling_

_We'll reel away till the break of day_

_And dance together till morning."_

Conrad's hands met Yuuri's waist and Yuuri felt himself be lifted up effortlessly, all the while laughing joyfully. Though when his feet met the ground a little too roughly, he felt his contacts become jarred out of place and pop out of his eyes. He barely gave it a thought - both he and his soldier were so caught up in the tune.

Neither of them exchanged to different partners, instead opting to stick out the dance together. Yuuri was only too happy that this was so, and reveled in the feeling of being wrapped in Conrad's arms. He was almost mournful when the song began to wind down.

He was, however, surprised when Conrad joined him in singing the last verse of the song, their dance slowing as they pressed together again:

"_My match isn't made._

_Your match is,_

_My match may be._

_Your match is made."_

Those around them separated from their partners, smiles abound as they started clapping for the corner band and dispersing.

Yuuri and Conrad remained staring at each other, however, a spark of something between them keeping them frozen in place.

'_Fight, Yuuri!_' the king thought to himself as he reached up and wordlessly guided Conrad's face down towards his own, meeting the soldier in the middle for a quick pressing of their lips together.

When they drew apart, Conrad's face was still composed, but there was something burning in his eyes that Yuuri found he quite liked.

"I think I understand now, Yuuri." The way Conrad said it let Yuuri know that his efforts had not gone unnoticed, and Yuuri responded with a wide grin.

"Took you long enough."

He moved in for another kiss, this time met with equal fervor and willingness. Yuuri felt his heart sing with happiness.

Meanwhile the crowd around hooted and cheered for the kissing couple now standing alone in the square, their affection for each other quite apparent for everyone to see.

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><p><strong>I stayed up super late writing about these dorks dancing, I hope you're happy. (I saw HTTYD2 and desperately needed to write a fic with these two dancing heheheh…). <strong>

**Also song of the day is "Téir abhaile 'riú!", which I painstakingly researched so I could include it in this fic. I wanted to find a German bar song, but they were too somber for my liking, so I found an Irish one. Thanks for reading! **


	8. Something Like Love

**Shiary requested 'spark'! I couldn't resist writing out this idea (even though the length got a little out of control, oops). I hope this is to your liking! :)**

**Chapter 8: Something Like Love**

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><p>It had been three weeks since Conrart had departed on his mission to the other world, and yet Blood Pledge Castle was still frigidly quiet. The silence was of the deafening and fragile kind, as if the slightest noise would cause the peace to shatter in the wake of the soldier's thunderous departure. Three weeks, and Blood Pledge castle might as well have been a ghost town - a skeleton of itself looming hauntingly in the falling snow, as if all the life had gone out of it.<p>

Gunter recalled the week leading up to Conrart's departure, remembering the nationwide chaos and grief following the news of Julia's death and the end of the war.

White Julia had been known and beloved by all – she had been a warm transient light that touched those around her. But like a bright candle suddenly snuffed out, the immediate darkness she left behind was especially deep.

The 26th Maoh, Her Majesty Cécile, hadn't left her chambers that entire week – the news of her close friend's death paired with the near-death of her second son caused by her own hesitance (though Stoffel had had a greater role in that occurrence) had left the Maoh paralyzed with grief, and the nation seemed to be trapped in a post-war depression in-sync with her.

The half-breed soldier had taken the news especially hard upon his waking – he had barely recovered from his wounds following his close call at Luttenburg, and after the news reached his ears, well…

Gunter could see now that the name "Lion of Luttenburg" that had followed Conrart home from the battlefield was an apt description of his former-disciple.

The man had been wild when he learned of Julia's death.

Gone was the discontented youth that Gunter had known. Before the war, Conrart had been angry at the world, and at those who judged him for his half-breed status. But it had been a quiet anger, one simmering just below the surface that manifested itself in the form of stubborn defiance in his Academy days.

But then Conrart and the others like him had been betrayed by Stoffel, and all had been sent to die.

When Conrart returned from Luttenburg and learned of the White Mazoku's demise, not a single thing could calm the half-breed's fury and grief, roaring around him like rolling thunderclouds and disquieting the castle's inhabitants. The soldier was truly like a caged animal, hungering for vengeance that he knew he would never be granted. Instead he lashed out at everything and everyone around him; even his closest friend could do nothing to soothe the Prince's rage.

At the time, Gwendal had just begun to take over his absentee mother's duties. Gunter recalled how the charcoal-haired Mazoku observed his younger brother's violent temperament, and had seemed somewhat disturbed by the change. He had suggested they try to send him away, to do _something_ with his brother.

Gunter admitted that even he experienced some whiplash from the half-breed's sudden intensity. The Conrart he had known and the Conrart that haunted the castle now were two completely different people. Gunter watched the half-breed carefully, fearing that the man had developed a death-wish.

And then, blessedly, Conrart had been summoned by Ulrike and sent on a mission – he was to deliver the soul of the next Maoh to another world.

Though Gunter had been initially perturbed upon learning that there was in fact another world, he was relieved that Conrart would finally leave the castle. One could only withstand the presence of such a person for so long.

And so here Gunter was, three weeks later, with a kingdom of disheartened people and a quiet that seemed to echo.

Winter had hit them early this year; Gwendal was quickly learning the ropes as he stood in for the Maoh. Cecile had eventually abandoned her chambers – she was not one to stay in one place for so long – but she was timid and fragile, and avoided her duties fearfully and frequently. Her last act as Maoh was to banish Lord Grisela Gegenhuber – though Stoffel, once again, was behind this (Gunter saw all to easily that the man was forcing Grisela to take the fall).

Gunter, meanwhile, was devoting himself to rebuilding the kingdom's morale. He sent food and aide to the far reaches of the kingdom, where post-war effects were felt strongest. He also now knew the arrival of a new Maoh was on the horizon, and that in itself was enough to celebrate. For the Mazoku, it would probably happen in the blink of an eye – they lived long and their years passed quickly. But they had just come out of a war, and Gunter knew it would take a long time for the wounds of the people to heal.

He feared for the new Maoh, knowing the future ruler was going to have quite a daunting task ahead of them.

Still, Gunter prepared himself to be the Maoh's aide, as he knew he would inevitably become. He knew it was going to be different than training soldiers at the Academy; he had no idea what this 'Earth' was like, after all. So he studied diligently, absorbing everything a Maoh would need to know, since the newcomer would likely know nothing at all.

And then, so many months later, Conrart returned.

Gunter wouldn't have noticed the soldier's prescense had Gwendal not informed him. It was another day before Gunter even _saw_ the soldier, and once again he found himself shocked.

The man who had left them like a wild hurricane six weeks ago now seemed, dare he say it, _tame_. It was as if all the darkness had bled out of him, leaving something tranquil behind. The soldier had nearly passed him in the outdoor corridor before Gunter remembered to speak.

"Sir Weller!" Gunter called softly, drawing the soldier's (_soft?_) gaze towards him.

"Lord von Christ." Conrart acknowledged him with a nod, but didn't slow. The man seemed distracted, his mind elsewhere.

"I am glad to see you have returned unharmed from your mission." Gunter continued, moving into the soldier's path to prevent him from passing. He had questions for the man.

The Prince seemed to realize he was going to have to speak with Gunter, and slowed to a stop.

"Hopefully," Gunter continued cautiously, fearful he would ignite the half-blood's anger at any wrong word, "we can expect to see a splendid new Maoh join us in the near future."

And then Conrart did something unbelievable.

_He smiled_.

Gunter had to resist gaping like a fish at the sight, but gave a start despite himself.

"The mission was successful, Lord von Christ." Conrart replied neutrally, but his face was one of barely-contained wonderment, like he was recalling a happy memory. "His Majesty, Yuuri, was born safely."

_Yuuri_. Gunter felt a buzz of excitement at the utterance of the King's name.

"Though," The soldier mused, "there were some difficulties. It seems His Majesty is quite adept at getting into trouble despite his young age. You have quite the task ahead of you, Lord von Christ."

Gunter felt a flicker of concern. "Trouble?"

"Oh, it was nothing. Merely a misunderstanding."

Gunter nodded, all the while marveling at the conversational tone Conrart had adopted. It felt surreal – was this truly the same man that had left them not so long ago?

"His Majesty…" Conrart suddenly wavered, turning his head to cast his gaze out over the falling snow. His neutral expression turned thoughtful, a small smile once again gracing the brown-haired mazoku's face. "He has quite the ability."

_You don't say?_ Gunter marveled as he continued to take in Conrart's changed demeanor. _What kind of ability would that be? _There was something in his eyes; where before in his gaze there had been bleakness and despair, now it held a steadiness and determination, along with a _spark of_ _something like—_

"I must be going, Lord von Christ." Conrart suddenly spoke up, giving a short bow to his former mentor. "Lord von Voltaire wishes to see me about my new duties as Captain of the Guard now that I have returned from my mission. Please excuse me."

Stupefied at the formality, Gunter mindlessly stepped aside and let him go on his way.

He watched the half-Mazoku as he passed. The man slipped back into his distracted state, a half-smile carving itself back onto his face. It was almost as if he was concentrating on maintaining the expression, like it was some great task. Gunter had known the man for quite a long time, and could tell from miniscule movements in the half-blood's face that the man had not completely recovered and was struggling to maintain the casual look.

Conrart had changed, however. The man carried himself lighter; his hands were not fists at his sides, ready to swing. His words had not been spiked with anger and blame, his eyes far, _far_ from accusatory.

Gunter still struggled to grasp the conversation that he had just held. Not only was the violent Conrart of a year ago gone - so was the discontented one that Gunter had known for so many years.

_Just what happened to Conrart while he was on Earth_?

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><p><strong>I would really like to write a few drabbles based on everyone's reactions upon meeting the new 'changed' Conrart. I always thought it was really cute how Conrart had to teach himself to smile (at the request of Shouma, who understandably didn't want Mr. Grumpy-Pants around his children). I'm sure that took a lot of effort considering his past, and all of his acquaintances at the castle got to witness it one way or another.<strong>

**Watching the anime, it seemed Gunter knew right away just how much Conrart had changed when they first met after the mission, just by looking at him. I guess Gunter knew right away that it was love! ;0 **

**Thanks for reading!**


	9. Rejection

**I'm gonna keep this short, since I'm taking the finals for my summer classes in two days and I have to study! ;o; No prompt for this one, it's just something I thought of. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 9: Rejection<strong>

The first time someone had thrown stones at Conrart's king, the boy had been newly arrived and uncertain of his surroundings – it had made Conrart furious. But those had been humans, and deep down, despite his anger, Conrart could grudgingly understand why they had done it.

The second time Yuuri had been pelted with stones, it broke Conrart's heart.

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><p>Yuuri had done many great things since he had dropped into their lives, and mended many wounds. Conrart was so, so proud of the young King, and was privately thankful for the change his Sun had made within himself.<p>

But Shin Makoku, deep down, harbored an ugly thing, not easily changed and full of scars.

Conrart had seen it first hand, when the prejudice and suspicion against those of his kind had caused them to be sent to the front lines. Despite the heavy price the half-bloods had paid to be seen as equals – and they had _paid it_ – Shin Makoku was a stagnant country, slow to change. Yuuri had done his best to staunch this particular wound, knowing how much it meant to Conrart, but how could he cure it, when the King was also the 'poison'—a half-blood, like him?

The half-mazoku soldier did his best to hide Yuuri from the pain and the reality of this world, but sometimes, it wasn't enough.

That day, they had been passing through a town on the outskirts of the country, inspecting the conditions of the countryside. If there was thing he knew about outlying areas, it was that they (being farthest from the center) were always the last to change. He should have seen it coming, but he honestly hadn't expected it, too sure of Yuuri's influence.

"Filthy half-breed!" Someone spat as Yuuri and his party passed on horseback through the square at the town's center.

Conrart flinched, initially thinking that the insult had been directed at him.

But then the first stone had been thrown, and it struck Yuuri squarely in the chest, and then the jeering started.

"We don't want you for our King, mongrel!"

"You all should have been wiped out in the war!"

"You're not worthy to lead us, half-breed!"

"Leave, and _never come back_!"

Within seconds a sneering mob had massed around them, throwing rocks and rotten fruit at the bewildered king and his horse. Conrart and his brothers immediately formed a protective circle around the double-black King, shielding him from the projectiles as their soldiers dispersed the crowd.

"Don't address your King in such a way!" Wolfram howled at the crowd as they quickly maneuvered the teen away, fury and guilt written across his face.

Gwendal too looked angry, his face pained as the slurs continued to fly.

But Conrart was too focused on Yuuri's expression – it was one of sadness, betrayal, and worst of all, understanding. There was no anger there, no accusation. He could see that Yuuri had already forgiven them.

Conrart could feel his heart rip in half as if was made of paper.

That night, they camped outside the town. Their original plan to stay at an inn in town was been dashed for obvious reasons, and instead they pitched makeshift tents and brought out the bedrolls.

Yuuri was quiet. He insisted on helping set up camp, collecting wood, and carrying supplies. But other than that he had barely said a word, an obvious look of sadness plastered across his face for everyone to see.

Conrart watched over him as he slept, wishing his could do something to ease the teenager's pain.

But Yuuri had not been sleeping – after everyone else had gone to sleep and settled, the camp become quiet. With the wash of silence, the sound of tiny sniffles reached the soldier's ears. He turned and saw Yuuri's small form shake with the smallest of trembles, punctuated every now and then by a sniff or small, open mouthed inhale.

Conrart barely made a sound as he moved to his King's side and placed a comforting hand lightly on his shoulder.

Yuuri stilled for a moment, relaxing into the touch. Then he shrugged it off and sat up, quickly turning towards Conrart and burying his face in the soldier's jacket.

"Conrad…" A muffled sob rose to Conrart's ears, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around the teen protectively.

He didn't know what to say. For once, he was lost for words. What could he say to this boy, that he hadn't repeated to himself a million times, knowing that they had no effect?

"I'm so sorry, Conrad…" Yuuri murmured, catching the soldier off guard.

Conrart looked down at the black head of hair below his chin, eyes widening in confusion.

"It must have been so hard…" Yuuri whispered, clenching Conrart's uniform even more tightly in his fists, "No one deserves that. No one."

Conrart suddenly felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him, the meaning of Yuuri's words hitting him hard. A sudden rush of emotion poured over him – all the pain and betrayal he had felt after Luttenburg, the loss of his faith as his uncle had sent him to war and his mother had done nothing to stop it, the wounds from so much rejection ripping open.

"Nothing is wrong with you, Yuuri." He whispered the words that he himself had been starving to hear for most of his life. "Some people just don't understand."

Yuuri nodded, agreeing with Conrart's words.

They sat together for another hour or so, unmoving and silent. But it was the kind of silence that said many things. They exchanged emotions, and came to understand the world a little more. Under those stars, they were two half-mazoku: not yet accepted by the world, but so important to each other.

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><p><strong>Yay, sadness! I hope that dialogue made sense. It's like 2AM and my poor, overloaded brain is forgetting how people interact with each other. <strong>

**See you next chapter, and leave a review if you liked this one!**


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